


Boyfriend

by icygrace



Category: Olympics RPF, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Family, Family Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, Humor/Fluff, Kid Fic, family fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:49:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icygrace/pseuds/icygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Nana has a boyfriend,” Ollie says in the same tone he uses to talk about sprouts, celery and other gross greens. Cue freaking out and the boys being cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boyfriend

 

_November 23, 2022 – Baltimore, MD_

 

Ollie kicks his feet impatiently against their booth. His strawberry cheesecake shake is long gone and he’ll be a sugar-high nightmare for hours.

 

Michael shakes his head. It was stupid and they knew it was stupid when they bought it for him. But they really wanted shakes and Ollie saw them leaving, so bringing him along was the only way he wouldn’t make a fuss. And the last thing either of them wanted was for his mother to ask if her home cooking wasn’t good enough for them.

 

Of course, it’s not like they’ll be having _tons_ of it at Thanksgiving tomorrow.

 

“Almost done, Gator,” Ryan promises. He takes a sip of his weird peanut butter and bacon shake and ruffles Ollie’s hair with his free hand.

 

Ollie sits back, but he’s still restlessly jiggling his leg. He turns to Michael. “Daaaaad!”

 

“We’re leaving soon, I promise.” Michael takes a big gulp of his own drink. “And remember not to tell Nana when we get back, OK?”

 

Less than a minute later, Ollie pipes up again. “Nana has a _boyfriend_ ,” he says in the same tone he uses to talk about sprouts, spinach and other gross greens.

 

Ryan lets out a low whistle. “Good for Debs.”

 

“A _what_?” Michael spits his drink out across the table in shock.

 

“Say it, don’t spray it, geez.”

 

“But my _mom_ – If it was _your_ mom –”

 

“My mom’s _flirted_ in front of me.” Ryan shudders, taking a couple useless dabs at his hot fudge shake-covered shirt.

 

Michael almost feels bad.

 

“You’re buying me a new one.”

 

“Pretty sure I bought you that one.”

 

Ryan squints thoughtfully down at it. “It _was_ kinda ugly.”

 

“Hey, it was – God, keep your clothes on, we’re indoors. Plus this isn’t Florida. And it’s _winter_.” But then Michael remembers crisis at hand. “Are you sure, Ols?”

 

While he was panicking about the news Ollie casually dropped on him and dealing with Ryan’s total shamelessness about shirtlessness, Ollie decided this was a good time and place – on the fucking _stone floors_ – to do cartwheels. This is one of the many times Michael realizes they really shouldn’t have signed Lo up for gymnastics. She actually learns how to do that stuff and Ollie doesn’t, but still imitates the more dangerous things he’s seen her do if he’s bored enough.

 

“Oliver! What have I told you about doing that stuff where it’s not carpeted?”

 

“Don’t,” their son answers glumly.

 

“Right. Now are you sure about your nana’s . . . um–”

 

“Uh-huh. Lo said so.”

 

Lo.

 

Oh no.

 

\---

 

At 9 years old, Lo fancies herself something of a matchmaker. The scary thing is, she might not be wrong.

 

A few years back, well before Nathan ever asked Missy out, Lo told Ryan that “Missy should be Charlie’s mommy.” He finally admitted that that little comment was what eventually inspired him to con Michael, Elizabeth and Conor into a bet they all assumed he couldn’t possibly win.

 

Two years ago, in Michael’s hearing, Lo simply told her godfather, “Uncle Cullen, I like her” after finally meeting his long-time girlfriend Kate. Ryan said Cullen had been carrying the ring in his pocket for a whole month before that, but he proposed the next day.

 

Coincidence? Of course not.

 

A few days into the twins’ visit with Michael’s family last summer, Whitney called to tell him that Bob was considering shipping Lo back to them, express.

 

\---

 

_August 21, 2022 – Cape Town, South Africa_

 

“Oh God, what did she do? They’re way too old to be painting walls –”

 

“She told the boy Taylor’s liked forever that he’s cute, but not nearly cute enough for her cousin and that he should get a move on if he wants a chance with her.”

 

That’s _weird_ , but not completely awful. “She did not.”

 

“Oh she did. Taylor was mortified. But it worked. They had ice cream yesterday. Bob insisted on sending Lo as their chaperone.”

 

“He sent my nine year old to chaperone your sixteen year old’s date?”

 

“Yep. And he was not impressed when she reported back that Jerry kissed Taylor behind a lamppost so she wouldn’t see. Because of course it wouldn’t have happened without Miss Bean’s nudge in the first place.”

 

His poor brother-in-law. “ _You_ don’t seem to have a problem with this.”

 

“Taylor’s sixteen. She _should_ be kissing boys behind lampposts.”

 

“Lo won’t be kissing boys behind lampposts till she’s _sixty_ ,” he retorts.

 

“You’ll be too dead to know or care by then.”

 

“We’ll live into triple digits just to troll the kids. And haunt them once we’ve kicked the bucket.”

 

“Those poor children.”

 

\---

 

_November 23, 2022 – Baltimore, MD_

 

Poor _him_.

 

Michael loves his mother and wants her to be happy, but he can’t picture her having a _boyfriend_. Not to mention, he’s pretty sure he’s well past the point where getting a stepfather is a thing. Oh _God_.

 

Their daughter must be wrong.

 

When they get back to his mother’s, he takes Lo aside into the spare room to talk to her alone. “So Bean,” he starts with a big smile. “Tell me about Nana’s boyfriend.”

 

“I’m not telling you _anything_.”

 

“Lo –”

 

“You went for shakes without me and that’s not fair,” she huffs. How does she even know that?

 

“You were having fun with Aunt Hilary.”

 

Lo pouts, crosses her arms, and says nothing.

 

Michael can wait. He’s not going to be out-stubborned by a kid.

 

\---

 

Ten minutes and counting, still not even a peep.

 

Michael takes Lo’s hand and brings her out to the car.

 

\---

 

Lo’s a lot more cooperative once she’s halfway into a chocolate cheesecake shake.

 

He sips half-heartedly at a chocolate-covered banana shake. It’s that kind of day. He sighs.

 

“His name’s Len.”

 

Leonard. God, what an old fogey name. Man’s probably got a foot in the grave.

 

“He’s really nice.”

 

Surehe is.“What does he do? Or is he re –”

 

“He’s a professor.”

 

“Do you know where?”

 

Lo sits up straight. “Maryland.”

 

“Here in Baltimore or –”

 

“Uh-huh. He took us.”

 

“He took you? Nana took you on a date with her boyfriend and didn’t tell us?”

 

“And Ollie and Connor, too. But he wasn’t her –”

 

“We’re leaving.”

 

“But I didn’t finish my –”

 

“Just do it in the car.” He tosses his second shake in the trash.

 

\---

 

“You took my children on a _date_ with you, Mother?”

 

His mom moves her lips silently. Finally: “ _Mother_? Are you really scolding me, Michael Fred? I’m an adult, with adult chil –”

 

“Yeah I am. You took my kids somewhere with some strange guy I’ve never met and didn’t even know about. Last _summer_.”

 

“At the end of the summer.”

 

“That’s August. So like four months?”

 

“Closer to three and we were only friends for –”

 

“Could we please spare me the details? What were you thinking?”

 

“Now you know about him. You’ll be meeting him tomorrow at dinner.”

 

She turns her attention back to the Chico’s catalog she’s marking up for her Christmas wish list after years of Michael and his sisters badgering her to make their lives a little easier.

 

He just stares at her.

 

\---

 

_November 24, 2022 – Baltimore, MD_

 

The next day, right after Whitney and Mom have laid out some pre-dinner snacks, Len arrives bearing two pies: apple and pumpkin.

 

Michael resists the urge to smirk. Those pies won’t win Len any points with Taylor and Ryan, who spent most of last night trying to learn the fine art of pie-making from Mom – with an assist from Hilary – and only succeeded in setting off the smoke detector. They’d spent the remaining time until everyone went home sulking about their failure. Just the mention of pie had made Ryan scowl in the morning. In fact, Michael isn’t allowed to mention anything about yesterday’s disaster when his former coach comes by for dessert later.

 

Taylor hasn’t gotten over last night’s catastrophe either; she’s avoided the kitchen all afternoon. No doubt they’ll try again, but right now niece and uncle won’t appreciate Len and his bakery pies – or even Bob and his soufflé or Hilary (who knows better than to mention it in their hearing) and her cheesecake – horning in on their territory.

 

The first thing he notices is that Len doesn’t look as old as he expected. He’s got the salt-and-pepper going on and his face is lined of course, but Michael expected a man a couple years older than his mother, not somebody who might actually be a little younger than her from the looks of him.

 

Oh God, is this guy secretly like a gigolo or something, trying to cozy up to his mother and rob her blind? How do they even know he’s really a professor? _Do_ they know? Like what’s wrong with his sisters that they didn’t _tell_ him about this? He could’ve . . . hired a PI to look into this skeeze.

 

“It’s good to meet you, Michael. I’ve heard so much about you.” Man has a firm handshake.

 

“I haven’t heard _anything_ about you.”

 

“Michael Fred!” Mom scolds. “Where are your manners?”

 

Ryan tut-tuts behind him. “Michael _Fred_.” It’d be bad form to hit his husband, especially with all these witnesses, wouldn’t it? But it’s tempting. At the very least, he’ll make Ryan pay for it some _other_ way later.

 

“Yes, you have, Dad.” Right, there are the children to think about. They’ll have to have a little talk with their daughter about not calling her parents out on tiny white lies in front of strangers.

 

“Well, not much. Now why don’t you go play with your brother?” He only starts talking once Lo’s given Len a hug – ugh – and grudgingly wandered off in search of Ollie. “I really only know that you’re a professor at Maryland. What do you teach?”

 

“Applied math.”

 

Christ’s sake, _applied math_. Mom probably ate that right up.

 

“We ran into some of his students visiting campus, they just _love_ him,” she brags.

 

Len makes an _aw shucks_ face. Smarmy bastard.

 

“So where are you from?”

 

“Upstate New York.”

 

Ryan nods . . . _approvingly_ , how dare he?

 

“Canandaigua.” No fucking way. This guy’s gonna be Ryan’s new BFF, isn’t he?

 

“School?” Michael presses.

 

“College?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Michigan.”

 

Is this bozo even serious right now? His mother elbows him, hard.

 

“Oof! Uh, I mean, uh, that’s nice.” He’s not losing control of the interro – er, conversation. “Why Maryland then?”

 

“I spent my whole life freezing till I finished my PhD. I wanted somewhere a little warmer.”

 

“Where’d you teach before this?”

 

“Just here. It was my first position. Started off as a lecturer and worked my way up to tenure. Somewhere along the way I met my wife. She was an adjunct. We liked it here and never left.”

 

“Your wife?”

 

“Michael –”

 

“No, it’s all right, Debbie.” Len clears his throat. “She passed three years ago. Cancer.”

 

Wow. Rough. “Oh. I’m – I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

“Thank you. Maureen was lovely, elegant but very lively,” he continues fondly. “Everyone loved her – and that’s not just my bias. She had the best evaluations in her whole department and economics is a big one. She told everyone they had to watch out for me, make sure I didn’t stew, and her former students have been relentless. Younger grandmothers, older aunts, other professors. And all those cookies and casseroles,” Len says, patting his stomach. Then he looks at Michael’s mother. “They’re very pleased.”

 

Mom smiles back and he maybe kind of feels like an asshole, being so hard on this guy who lost his wife to _cancer_ and is now making his mother smile like Michael’s not sure he’s ever seen her smile over something besides him and his sisters and their kids, but different, somehow – different of _course_ , he corrects himself.

 

But this is his _mom_.

 

“I – um, I need some air. Excuse me.”

 

\---

 

Ryan being Ryan, he follows Michael outside. “MP –”

 

“Don’t.”

 

Ryan makes a big show of settling himself down on the bench, but it’s small, so they’re shoulder-to-shoulder. Though they’d probably sit this close together even if it was twice as big. “I get this is weird as hell and Debs kinda just sprung this guy on you out of nowhere. Probably ‘cause she was nervous you’d like freak out.”

 

“I kind of am.”

 

“You totally are. But like – your mom loves you so fucking much, like you guys are her life, especially you and you know it.”

 

It’s true. That’s why he can’t just let some guy show up and steal his mom away without asking any questions.

 

“And like – you guys are all like grown and settled and whatever. Like we’re in Florida and like retired and all, so she’s not like going all these places with us anymore. And Whitney’s kids are getting older, I mean, Taylor’ll be in college in a couple years.” Ryan stops, eyes wide. “Woo-ee. Little T in college, what –” He shakes his head. “Your mom, like, I dunno, she should like – have somethin’ that’s just for her, maybe.”

 

“What if it was _your_ mom?” he asks quietly.

 

“I’d freak the fuck out,” Ryan says bluntly. “But we have these awesome moms and they should be happy, right? So like at least don’t be a jerk to this guy, like give him a chance. I mean, Debbie’s always super-nice to me and Bob and –”

 

“You know she wasn’t really here for you at first.” His mother _had_ been a little skeptical of the totally reckless, crazy loud-but-lovable dude-bro who’d unexpectedly made a space for himself in Michael’s life after Athens. But Ryan won her over like he does everyone who really knows him.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, she totally loves me now.” It’s hard not to.

 

“But –”

 

“ _Michael Fred_.”

 

“Do I have to?” he whines.

 

“Yeah.” Ryan puts a hand on his thigh. Too bad it’s more of a _behave_ pat than a _be good and I’ll be good to you_ kind of pat.

 

“Can I at least torture him a little first?”

 

“We wouldn’t be us if we didn’t.”

 

 _We. Us._ It’s nice that Ryan has his back.

 

\---

 

Now Michael’s OK to go back inside for round two of the getting-to-know-you game. But God, they’re giving each other these . . . looks when he walks in. He sits down next to his mother, across from Len, at the table and grabs a carrot from the veggie plate. “So how’d you meet my mother?”

 

“Well, we go to the same bakery. I’d seen her before, of course.”

 

“Did you know who she was?” he asks suspiciously.

 

 “Yes. It’s hard not to here in Baltimore.”

 

“So you just kind of bided your –”

 

“Michael!”

 

Ryan gives him a Look, too. He has such expressive eyebrows.

 

“No, actually,” Len answers calmly. “I was sitting there with my usual cream coffee and a lemon cupcake, mostly minding my own business, when I overheard your mother and your daughter. They were looking over the sweets in the display case and it reminded me very much of the times I’d brought my niece there when she was small.”

 

“Niece?”

 

“Mm-hmm. Her name’s Marina.”

 

“No kids?”

 

“No.”

 

“So I haven’t had to suffer this kind of interrogation,” Mom says warningly.

 

“Oh, it’s all right, Debbie. Son’s got to protect his mother.” He’s still looking directly ay Michael. “But as I was saying, it reminded me of my own visits with Marina, so I couldn’t help but look up from my paper. I’m not really sure – I think she might have seen me looking in the mirror behind the counter, but Lo came right up to my table and said –”

 

“ _See, Nana, he’s having a cupcake for breakfast!_ ” Mom finishes. “What a bad example.” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “ _That I am_ , he says.”

 

“ _I see_ , Debbie says, all disapproving,” Len continues. “And looks at me like I’m right up there with the worst criminals in the country. So then I tell Lo that I normally don’t have cupcakes for breakfast, but that I was only having it because it was an extra-special day. Which wasn’t . . . strictly true, but I had just finished grading my summer students’ final exams and they all passed, so that was reason to be in a good mood and I told her so.”

 

“She then informed Len that she’d lost a tooth the day before, so obviously her nana should let her get a cupcake, right?”

 

“But _then_ I was told the tooth fairy had already brought her ten dollars for the tooth and that was celebration enough.”

 

“So then he offers to buy the cupcake himself. _If it’s all right with your nana._ ”

 

This guy’s clever then. Go for the kid. The kid’s always the chink in the armor. You win the kid, you win the war. Missy could tell you a thing or two about that. Michael himself had always taken Taylor and Connor’s affection for Ryan as a good sign.

 

Mom looks easily a dozen years younger as she retells the story. “I’m left with no choice but to say yes or look like a spoilsport, so I agree and thank him, reluctantly. Lauren just grabs this man we’ve _only_ just met – and actually, we hadn’t, hadn’t even exchanged names – by the hand and drags him over to the counter and I’m just _mortified_ , so I say, _don’t you think you should introduce yourself to this nice man_?”

 

“She does and then she says, and _this is my Nana Debbie_. And then she looks at me and she looks at my left hand – that was the one she took – and just kind of slyly asks if I have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.”

 

Ryan stifles a snicker.

 

“When I say I don’t, she says –”

 

“ _My nana doesn’t either, she can be your girlfriend_!” Len and Mom say in unison.

 

Mom keeps on going. “I wanted the ground to open up, but cool as you please, he just says he’ll get us cupcakes and something to drink _._ ”

“So they’d sit with me and I could get to know Debbie a bit, of course.”

 

“I liked that. Lauren liked the fact that he didn’t just assume she wanted the pink-frosted cupcake –”

 

“And told me so. She likes chocolate, of course, but it turns out that her nana does like the pink-frosted ones because they’ve got cherry filling.”

 

“I do. You also told her that she had a milk mustache, which her fathers never do,” his mother adds pointedly.

 

“It looks cute,” Michael mutters defensively.

 

“But young ladies need to look –”

 

“She’s a little girl!”

 

“She’s 9. Which is almost 10, which is –”

 

“Please, Mom, stop.” He feels a little sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have had the carrots. “Please. Like no. And you’re making me feel old. Kids getting so close to _10_ –”

 

“ _I’m_ making _you_ feel old? How do you think I feel about the fact that my youngest has almost-10 year olds?”

 

“Well, you make _me_ feel young,” Len interrupts.

 

Michael tries not to think about less-appropriate implications of that statement.

 

“I’m not sure how I can, considering that you’re younger than me.”

 

“You’re young at heart.”

 

Michael’s mother actually _giggles_. Giggles! That’s so _not_ DP. Like is this for real? He looks around to see if Ryan’s listening.

 

He is listening. But Ryan doesn’t look surprised or weirded out. He’s grinning. That makes Michael want to grin back.

 

And that – why shouldn’t his mother have that?

 

\---

 

That’s not to say Michael will go easy on Len – not to say any of them will. In fact, if Len so much as puts a toe out of line, Mom has one son, two daughters, three sons-in-law, and four grandchildren, all of whom would be very, very angry, and all of whose wrath Len would have to deal with.

 

With that comforting thought, Michael gives Len a nod and wanders off to check on the carving knife.

**Author's Note:**

> For mugglemiranda, who inspired this eons ago, and redjacket, whose enthusiasm to see this corner of my kidfic ‘verse helped me flesh it out and made me want to write it up. Compliant with One, Nathan’s Terrible Dates and Reezy Knows Best. Can stand alone.


End file.
